Cabin Curiosities
by Elizabeth Cicero
Summary: One shot/ Lost Scene What happens when the heat, a compass, and a dozen inner battles bring Elizabeth to the least safe place in the Caribbean...a Captain's Cabin? This is a lost scene in DMC.


**Cabin Curiosities**

_(The Lost Scene)_**

* * *

**

"So you never wondered how your latest fiancé ended up on the Flying Dutchman in the first place." Norrington carefully spun on his heels at the remark, gazing back into the sunlight from which she stood. The battered mud strewn across his face and clothing had made him anything less that human, and still the expression she replied with was one of acknowledgement; she knew exactly what and whom he meant.

Jack.

Only a slight gasp escaped her lips before James returned to his newfound occupation as crewman of the Pearl, with his chuckle situating in the breeze well past his leave. Had it not been for the roar of the ship's hull against the sea's brush she may have easily come to terms with the pounding of her heart. Rather by an immediate curiosity, her mind played on the notion of the compass, the compass with one motive. To point to that which she wanted most in this world, to Will surely, but could it possibly point elsewhere than to a destined location on the horizon?

Unable to dispel the idea she quickly snatched the small oak box from within the lower panel of her coat, and held it towards the sunlight. With a short flick of her wrist the compass lid revealed the already spinning needle, dancing lightly in circles, unable to determine a certainty. This, she assumed was the struggle she burdened with since stepping onto the Pearl, the issue of her fleeting heart. Spinning about, the red dial eventually came to a feathering close, directing her eyes from the compass across the open distance to the helm of the ship. As if the world had momentarily ceased to exist, Elizabeth peered into the clarity of her truest desire, the one which her heart had finally become fixed upon. The man who had blindly fooled her time after time, and only now had she learned of his ulterior interests behind rescuing her fiancé.

Boasted as a man of infamous adventure, it was only now that she could finally come to acceptance of it. Jack Sparrow, Captain Jack Sparrow was what she wanted most in this world. And as she watched him waver at the high rail, scanning the ocean with his scope, and completely at ease to the situation he had evoked, she began to wonder why it was that he had come into her life nearly a year past. What had been the reasoning behind his rescue, was Lord Beckett right, was Jack her fate?

The very thought of it made her knees hinder and her eyes flutter in disbelief, she turned her attention away, slamming the wooden compass shut and away from mind or sight. Her teeth gritted, head ached, and heart still pounded, all of such relinquishing her to reality. Will's face flashed before her quickly in that moment, unsure of the purpose, but certain it was a warning. A warning she had no intentions of heeding properly, as it was only then that her eyes carefully whisked back across the deck, upwards to where he stood slyly.

She felt exposed on the open deck, and wished for nothing more than a place to hide her revelation. Tucking the compass back into her pocket, she pushed her body from the rail and strutted off across the ship. Men rushed by her with mops, powder kegs and other things to keep them busy until land was spotted. Life was in a whirlwind as she walked, everything in her mind felt weightless, the air was crisper and the sun warmer. Glancing off she discovered a small corner at the stern of the ship, filled with nets and tangled ropes, and greatly unoccupied. She nestled her body into the mass, leaning back against the wooden side and curling her knees into her stomach. While she allowed her mind to settle, she left the compass to sit before her on the deck, a good distance away.

Every few seconds her glare would beam on the box, then back to the helm now far from her, and back to the compass, repeating this routine until she felt comfortable enough to take another chance with it. She unfurled her body from the ropes, reached out for Jack's compass and opened it again. The needle pointed directly north of where she sat, which is where he stood. Again refusing to believe such, she shut the lid, holding it tightly in her grasp for a matter of seconds and then opening it to reveal yet again the same fate. Try as she might, the dial would not change and so she found no remorse in tossing it aside, crossing her arms angrily and taking the opportunity to glare fervently at him.

It was not as if Jack had never treated her well, taken care of her, and rescued her at every possible turn of events. Nor was it that he was unattractive, at any rate it was his gruesome edge that ignited the fire in her. But the word marriage had embedded itself in her every thought for months, the glistening stemware, harmonious symphony, and the kiss of a thousand I do's. All of it, ruined, showered, and intervened by one pirate and his greed.

Thinking on Will and her lost vows, it was only then that she took the time to recall the letters that Jack had snatched from her. The key to Will's freedom and safety lay in those papers, and now they were settled warmly in the pocket of his coat, with very little hope of coming back into her hands. With little depth, she found the schemes streaming through her mind, all possible ways of fooling Jack into giving back the letters. Rum had proven to work wonders before, a quick initiation into the bottle and within a half an hour she could have the whole coat if she so wished it. Yes…Jack and rum mixed well.

As her thieving thoughts carried her away into a bout of laughter she immediately noticed the absence of such a man from the wheel of the ship where he last stood. Her eyes moved down to the base of the right wing staircase, where Jack was spinning off into the darkness of his cabin doorway. As he disappeared into the room, she started to glorify herself in the anticipation of his exit when she would catch him off guard with a fresh bottle. Yet less than a minute later as she was standing to make her way to the brig, her plan was interrupted by the return he made onto the deck, his hair tossing in the breeze and against his white cotton tunic. His…"coat-less" tunic, as she deviously smirked to herself. He moved sheepishly across the splintering wood, never once paying notion to her buried hideout just to his left.

_'Apparently, the fool had gotten desperate for rum after all'_, she disbanded. Once she heard the door to the brig shut safely behind him, the heels of her boots flew from her crouched position and carried her back across the ship to the blackness of his cabin door.

A turn of the knob and a quick entrance into the cabin helped to ease her mind slightly, with the warmth of a dozen or so burning candles calming her. The room was deathly remote, allowing her to roam about inside to search for his coat. To both her right and left were cross sectioned rooms she recalled, curtained off for trivial matters of course. Jack's charting table gleamed in the candlelight just straight ahead and it was there that she saw his coat carefully strung across the back of his chair. She hurried over, ripping the coat away and burying her small hands inside trying to feel out the leather bound note, concluding with nothing. Being lost in the hunt, she had little time to notice the creak of the opening door, nor the welcoming of its owner. She shuffled across the desk, moving charts, maps, bills of sale, everything but the letters.

"Lookin' fer something o' interest luv?"

Her heart skipped a beat as she backed away from the desk and peered into the open room to see him.

"Jack, where are the letters? I need them for Will."

"An' what about you Elizabeth, whose going t' save ye with letters?"

"My father w--I will be fine. Will needs them more than I; now tell me where they are?" She stammered, walking around the table to meet him in the light.

"Do me the pleasure of explaining sumthin' first…why is it, that the majority of yer time spent, is done so to save poor, brave William?"

"What sort of question is that, I love him." Her anger was rising, blood heating at his sarcastic tone.

"Certainly it's more than that…" His lips pieced as he moved to stand beside her.

"Could be is' kiss…" the whispering melody of his voice pressed to her ears. "I ear' tell of a blacksmith's kiss that has done women in." He grinned with glittering teeth and wicked eyes, and with every wavered stretch he made over her body, his warm breath trickled down her neck.

"Jack…" She tried harshly, following him with widened eyes as he slowly circled her body.

"Is it…is' sword? The lad can swing a fine blade…"

"Stop it…"

"Tell me Lizzie…is Turner a force t' be reckoned with…in your bed?" He finalized, with his chin landing against her shoulder and his hand moving slowly at the base of her back. He felt her muscles tense at this, and in a flash she had pulled her body away and glared angrily up at him into the light.

"How dare you", her whimpering pout pronounced.

"Only avin' a bit o' fun…." He returned, lifting the bottle to her vision and moving to lean against the desk. "If ye aven't noticed, women are a rare commodity ere'."

"Soon to be rarer if you don't give me letters!" She demanded with arms crossed. Their eyes melded together, finding a peace and righteousness in one another as they always had. Whether she chose to believe it or not, it was only with Jack that she felt free, calm. Even his persistent teasing was something she found enjoyable at heart.

"You know Elizabeth…"

As Jack stood, her body pulsed backwards in defense of his seduction, and she heard his chuckle as he moved to a cabinet on the far side of the room. Trying to determine what he was doing, she realized it was the letters as he waved them over his shoulder in the candlelight. She of course made no sudden movements towards her goal, hoping to please him into returning them.

"I've often wondered what it is that ye do want. Rum scolded ole' Norrington out there almost did imself' in at yer regretful epiphany for William, an' now the whelp as' run off to save ye, having not a single clue as to yer actual whereabouts. A captain's quarters…"

"I came for what you took, the letters, that is all."

"Well then," He looked sharply at her, strutting towards the doorway and laying the leather canvas down on a small table. As he turned his eyes back to her, he noticed her hesitation. "…Ere' they are. Don't let the door hit ye on the way out."

Out of some strange regret she could feel her body tense with fear of leaving, with fear of walking away from him. As he stepped back from the table waiting for her to take the letters, she sighed at his face. He appeared lost, unloved and disappointed in hope. Her footsteps were careful ones, and as she moved past Jack to reach for the letters, a final moment of thought crossed her. _'What if…'_

Before the processing of such an idea could take place she felt twisted warmth wrap itself around her free wrist, and tug her backwards from the table. Jack's other hand moved tightly to her waist as he pressed her back into the wall directly behind them. His chest heaved against her breasts, still keeping his fingers delicately tangled in the crease of cotton and the leather of her belt. Elizabeth froze icily under him, unable to breath let alone speak, and unsure of where the lead would take him next. His height above her kept her pinned to the curtained wall, her back in a rush of pain and excitement, and only then communicating with her brain to move her eyes to his. A lustful grin and gaze was met purely with a giggle from her lips, as if a reaction to the complete ridiculousness of the situation.

"Well ats' a first." He replied, loosening his hold on her and stepping back a ways.

Elizabeth remained against the wall, bursting into laughter of an entirely honest nature. Jack stood closely by with a twitching and humored brow, his lips curling into a smile at what he was observing. Her hands covered her mouth, trying to wipe away the foolishness and clear her mind. Taking a deep breath, fixing her hat, and standing starkly before him, she tried to maintain a sense of what it was she was going to do next. Her inner mind told her that the smart thing to do would be to snatch the letters and head for the open deck, leaving every bit of the moment behind her. But staring into his eyes, the candles burning its ebony glow and drawing her in nearer and nearer, it was only a matter of time before she realized what it was that had to occur.

With little time to prepare, she pushed herself from the wall and flew into his arms. Completely caught off guard by her passion he tried to hold as tightly as he could, moving his hands to her waist and running them down the length of her thighs. Elizabeth's arms wrapped themselves around his neck, tangled in the mass of his hair and pulling his raw lips against hers. With little thought involved, he lifted her body from the floor and as she clung her legs severely to his waist, he moved to press her back against the wall. His tongue engulfed her open mouth, tasting every corner, every bit of sweetness she offered. Keeping a steady lean on the wall behind her, she moved her hands to the lining of his breeches and withdrew his shirt tails, lifted it over his head and tossed it to the floor. Sparing little time she moved her lips to kiss every inch of his neck, devouring his jaw line and causing a stir further below which she quickly felt tucked into her inner thigh. She knew exactly what it meant, she knew exactly what was going to take place, but the purity of her life until this moment had not prepared her for someone like Jack, but she couldn't move her lips.

"Lizzie!" He finally broke away, peering into her eyes with a shocked look. "What the…luv where did ye…"

The smile that crept along her face, tickling at the corners of her mouth in honor of what she was doing to him was one that he found profound appreciation in. Yet again, she had slowly and with little hint provided him with the interest that she was in fact, following closely in his steps. A pirate after all.

"Never judge a book by its binding Captain Sparrow…" Whispering softly with a giggle.

"After that display, I doubt I'll be reading much of anything else again, luv."

His grasp at her hips grew firmer, pressing his body further between his legs and tracing his fingers up the length of her stomach. Nestling his face behind her sea tasseled locks he carefully ran his fingertips along the roundness of her breast through her shirt. She could feel her breath catch, leaning her face towards the ceiling of the room biting her lower lip. The steaming aroma of desperation and rum wafted before her nose and leaving her slightly intoxicated by the chain of events that had led to where she was now. Pressed harshly against a wall, beneath the arms of a man, beneath the lips of Jack Sparrow.

For some reason still, the giggling seemed only appropriate to her, seemed to be the only thing keeping her from losing her wit. And oddly enough he found himself holding back from releasing into complete laughter. But still one thing kept them seriously entwined in one another, and that was the molten heat between them. Lizzie released her legs from around his waist momentarily, sliding back to the floor to stand. Jack's hands were at the wall at both sides of her face, leaning down into her lips to draw her back to him. With closed eyes all she could feel was the quick pace of his hands towards her shirt, tugging at it until it had reached her chest.

"Lift…" He said against her lips.

"No." She remarked, opening her eyes. "Don't tell me what to do."

"Oh it never ends with ye does it?" The question made him smile as he shook his head in disbelief, still holding her shirt at her chest.

"Say please." Her conclusion drove him mad, as he leaned down to towards her ear, and with tickling breath whispered.

"_Please_, let me…" She twitched with shivers as he bit her ear, and then tore the shirt from her body. Gazing back to bear witness to the glorious form before him, one which she felt nervous sharing but still could not resist the temptation of knowing what his hands would feel like against freed skin.

"Well, are you just going to stare?" With nothing keeping her from grinning wildly.

* * *

"Eh! Look…come ere' look!" Ragetti motioned from a squatted position at the base of a wall to the cabin. Behind the stairwell, Pintel followed his waving hand, interested in what his friend had discovered. The peephole had been an old pastime of theirs when the Pearl had been captained by Barbossa, and now the wonder of what Jack was up to came over him.

"Wot is it?"

"Look in there." Ragetti snickered, pointing towards the hole. He patted Pintel on the back as he peered inside. From the dim light he could make out a pair of bodies moving off in the distance, in a heated romp of passion. A perverse hiss left his lips as he smirked back to Ragetti.

* * *

Jack's lips had covered every inch of her neck and chest, finally realizing his desperation for her and not wishing to spare a moment longer on trivial romance. He ran his hand up the softness of still clothed thigh, then loosely over her pelvic region making his way to the ties on her pants. Not wishing to give him free roam of her body without something in return, she slid her hands between his and quickly untied his as well, the two of them in complete amusement at the obstacle.

"Stop moving!"

"Ye keep wigglin' round…"

Once they had managed to finish the task, Elizabeth tucked her hands inside the waistline and ran them down the length of his legs without warning, causing him to gasp in shock.

"Well that was easy then eh?" He replied, staring down to notice his open body, and the pants that were twisted around his boots. Lizzie stood by, her arms crossed in pride of what she had done thus far without any experience.

As he looked back up at her, he was intrigued by the honorable grin she had and quickly thrust her body back into his, skimming the line of her breeches and sinfully sliding them down over her soft legs, never moving his eyes from hers. All blood had run the course of her body, leaving it limp in his arms, and unable to speak more than ever. The very second that the soft bristles of hair at his lower waist and pelvis smoothed over her navel and lower stomach, she was gone. The pervading event was nearing and she knew it, but having found a symphony of safety in his eyes, she felt more assured that she could have ever thought possible.

* * *

"What are ye two lookin' in there fer…that's the captain in there!" Marty stammered towards the pair of them at the peephole. He slapped Ragetti on the back of the head as he approached them, and turned to question Pintel.

"What's in theres'o fascinatin'?"

"Popp…err..Miss Lizabeth…she be in there too."

"Wot?"

"Look fer yerself!"

Marty shuffled to the hole, ducking to look inside and gasped at the sight he be held. Moving from the wall, he turned out to the deck to call over Cotton and a few close crewmen.

"Cotton look mate…in there…right there! It's the captain…e's naked wit Miss Elizabeth!"

"_Grawwwk_….naked Captain!" Cotton parrot squawked loudly. With all of the crew shushing him.

* * *

"Ne'er thought ye would be in this position, did ye Lizzie?"

"Jack, very little surprises me anymore. Even you." She commented, resting her hands on his chest and peering towards him. Her mind was a rush of a thousand regrets, a thousand hidden lies to follow, a thousand lifted hopes.

"Ye don't ave' to make a joke, luv. I don't want ye to do something yer not ready fer."

"Will it hurt?" Her question was met with a weary gaze from him.

"Can't say really. If yer not sure, then…"

"No! Jack…." Moving her hand to his cheek as he turned it away, he felt his heart jump. "I want to. With you."

Doing little to follow his own advice, he quickly moved to make lightness of the weight.

"Yeah? Coz' dearest William is probably just in the next port…and from what I ear'…"

"Jack…"

"No really Lizzie, his lips are meant to be as…."

Interrupting his speech she leaned forward into his moving lips, taking in every bit of him, the taste she desired more than any wedding stemware. Her arms found their proper place around his neck once again, as his found her hips. With uncertain movement, Jack carried her body quickly as they moved behind one of the curtains and into an adjacent room, their bodies slamming at another wall.

Out of breath she remarked, "I would prefer to live through this Jack."

* * *

"Where did…gone! They'r gone!" one of the men shouted to the crowd that had formed.

Pintel moved towards him, pushing him from the wall and seeing for himself. "Where did they go off t'?"

"Privacy mate!" Marty yelled back at him.

"Privacy..? Priv…why ye lil'…!" Pintel screeched, flying to attack Marty in the crowded corner. Seconds later a battle had ensued in the small doorway, punches being thrown and swords drawn over the absence of entertainment.

Gibbs who stood just above them at the helm, heard the crashing of bodies and noticing the loss of the crew out on deck, became suspicious. He auctioned off the task of the wheel to another of the crew and quickly rushed down the stairs, seeing before him the scene of a dozen or so men brawling like savages.

"Ay! What is this, bunch o' bilge rats…get up the lot of ye, git back t' work!"

* * *

The two of them, still oblivious to the raucous they had caused outside the cabin, continued kissing passionately, lost in one another. It was not long before Lizzie felt Jack's body tense with a force and she pulled away from his lips, nervous for what was about to occur. Her eyes watched him intently, knowing he could never hurt her, but still on edge about what little she knew.

"Jack…?" She calmly whispered.

"Elizabeth….breathe…" Delicately reassuring her, the back of his hand swept across her face as she felt a twinge of pain envelope between her legs. With a heaving chest she struggled to gasp, tightening her fingertips against the back of his neck. Jack slowly continued moving inside of her, with ease and pacing comfort. He watched her closely, taking care to note when it was too much for her, with that point soon arriving. His body calmed as he stopped within her, holding her face she quickly tucked it against his neck, trying to overcome the feeling.

"Lizzie…" he spoke softly into her ear, brushing the hair from her face. "Lizzie, yer okay yes?"

With his words she fell back from his body, leaning into the wall behind her, and breathing deeply. Their bodies were still tightly joined and the pain had subsided to a numb pleasure.

"Was that all?"

Trying to hold back the laughter, Jack just simply stared back at her. Mesmerized by her not only her beauty, but the sheer perfection of the moment, something he had never experienced before.

"Hardly so, dearie…"

"Well then…" She began devilishly. "Show me the rest Captain."

And with that, Jack could feel every muscle in his body spasm with excitement, holding her body properly, caressing her silky skin and driving himself away from her. With the tips of her fingers she tapped on base of his neck, signaling him to push himself back inside of her again, as she pulled his lips into hers. The heat between their bodies rustled, dragging them in closer with each heart stopping thrust he made. Her legs ached with stifling ecstasy, certain she never wished for it to end. He held her thighs, pressing his body into her with every bit of his heart and spirit, grinding his teeth at the power she had driven from him. A flame had been ignited in Jack again, a fire led by a princess of purity, something he had yet experienced. Her gasps loosened with each move he made towards her, breasts heaving into his chest, and her arms lost beneath the softness of his weavings. The rough bristles of his facial hair tickled at her ear, while his lips devoured every bit of delicate skin that lay underneath. It was then that she felt her body tremble with a feeling she had only heard about, a feeling that like any other had taken over her every ability. A wave of fire rushed throughout her as Jack slammed her body into the wall again, tucking his face against her cheek and pushing his length into her with fury.

"Jack…"

* * *

As Gibbs scurried the men away into their proper work, the thunderous scream of a woman coming from behind the door of the Captain's cabin caught him in his step. He turned around to face the doorway, with a twisted brow and crooked smile, knowing full well the occupancy of such a room.

"She'll ne'er go back now…" He remarked quietly to himself and chuckled, wandering off to the helm.

* * *

A hot wetness filled her, with Jack's groans at her jaw being met with his tongue inside of her mouth.

The moment subsided slowly, pulsating the tenderness of their joint bodies. He held her firmly against the wall, covering her mouth with every bit of his lips and tongue, never desiring to part from inside of her warmth, and having never felt so alive as he did in that short second in time.

Finally releasing her lips, Elizabeth attempted to speak. "Uh…that was…"

"Trust me….I know…" He exhausted before as she burst into laughter, having never seen this side of Jack before. The sweetness of spent energy that flowed over him magnified every bit of his personality, and every bit of his beauty. Her lasting curiosities had been met and conquered by him, grandly, wonderfully and without sparing her heart. Jack Sparrow had her heart now, no matter the adventures or problems set to ensue between them.

"Jack?" She spoke his name, as he looked to her.

"Aye?" Heavy breathing careened the answering.

"I think I'd like some rum…" She smiled, running her fingers over his lips and giggling.

This time, without sense, reason, or necessary cause, Jack giggled too.

* * *

The End


End file.
